GPens and GStrings Fashion Profiles
by FEARMEfrancis
Summary: With the end of PCP Mashiro and Takagi need something new. With a few words from Miyoshi, watch out fashion world. Ashirogi Muto is coming!


**G-Pens and G Strings**

**Disclaimer: I _wish _I owned it!**

**A.N. Whoo! Finally, I'm back! It's been a crazy few years, and I've decided to try giving writing more time. This got done in thanks to Barrel of Monkeys, who kicked me around and griped at me until I got this chapter done. And who will probably continue to do so until it's finished.**

"Have you found anything yet?"

"Not yet. These are just old character designs, no ideas, sadly, Shujin."

Mashiro and Takagi were on the floor surrounded by messy boxes of drawings and rejected names. Because of the Copycat, many parents had called and mailed in complainig about PCP and its influence. The result... PCP had been dropped. Now, Takagi and Mashiro were frantically looking for old ideas, or racking their brains for newer ones. As soon as they had gotten the news, they had rushed to the studio to shuffle through boxes upon boxes trying to find something that they could use. All the while they were cursing the Copycat for ruining the manga that they had slaved so hard over.

So far all they had seen of interest were random sketches by Mashiro when he had a free minute , or they had passed them over for other character sketches.

"Don't you have any notebooks or anything with your ideas?"

"No."

"Napkins?"

"No."

"Toilet paper? _Anything?_"

"No, sorry."

"You don't sound very sorry."Mashiro shot back with a pouting glare at his partner.

"Sorry." Takagi quipped back with a grin before putting on a serious face . "We usually just talk it out, so I never really write them down unless both of us decide on the ideas."

Mashiro thought about it for a minute, and just shrugged and continued to look through his box. He had to agree. Usually they just shot ideas back and forth unless they were going to do one shots, or they had something for Hattori to look at.

"Any luck yet?" Came the voice of Miyoshi, Takagi's wife, and the only woman of the group.

She came in with drinks and a small snack for them, gaining thanks and a quick kiss on the cheek from Takagi. Settling down on the floor as well, she pulled a box over to help them with their search.

"Oooh!" Came Miyoshi's voice out of the silence some time later, startling both of them in the process.

"What? Did you find a story idea? A snippet?" Asked the boys, practically crawling over each other in their excitement to see what it was.

"Nope. But these clothing ideas are really cute!" She said, sounding slightly vapid.

"Thanks, I guess," replied the artist, slumping in defeat. Curse her! She had gotten them all excited for nothing!

Takagi took the papers from her to study them for a bit. He looked at them with a critical eye, as if he were looking at the clothing in the store. " No, these are really good. I can see why Miyoshi likes them. You're spot on with the way the clothing fits and hangs on the body."

Mashiro gave an awkward shrug, not sure how to take the compliment. "Really there's nothing special about them. Just ideas. I figure that even if it's only one drawing, a person should be able to look at it and be able to tell that it's a picture by us."

"Maybe you should have gone into fashion. You have really unique ideas, and a really fresh design for these pictures." Takagi said absent absentmindedly nsaid with a grin, still studying the pictures.

"I want these ones. Could you make them for me?" Asked Miyoshi, handing Mashiro a few pages.

He put them to the side, not even looking at them, to continue his search. "I can't, sorry." He apologized moving onto the next box.

Miyoshi puffed out her cheeks at the answer, clearly not pleased with it. Takagi, recognizing his wife's swift mood change, wearily watched on. Ready at a moments notice to throw himself out of the room to save himself, friend be damned.

"Well, why not?" Was the angry retort.

"Miyoshi, I can't sew." Mashiro said slowly.

"So? Learn." She snarled back.

"When will I have time to learn?" Asked Mashiro, aspiration clear in his voice. He really just wanted her to drop the subject and get back to searching.

"You have a mother. Now that you have nothing going on, you have the time." The woman sapped back. Clearly she wasn't going to give up.

"We're trying to find another one, so maybe not now? Maybe some other time." Takagi tentatively offered from his place by the door, trying to placate his wife.

Miyoshi narrowed her eyes at her now sweating husband. Takagi was looking at Mashiro, begging him with his eyes to save him. He really didn't want his wife to beat him up. Nor did he want to sleep on the couch, or, worse yet, get kicked out of the apartment until she cooled off.

"I'll make them for you. No promises that it'll be anytime soon, though." Was Mashiro's bone to his friend. Miyoshi made a yelp of happiness, while the boys focus was on one another. Takagi owed him for this. Big time.

About a week and a half later found Mashiro at his mothers table, having tea with her. They still hadn't found anything, nor had they come up with any ideas. Also, Miyoshi was quickly becoming a... problem to deal with. She kept badgering them about the clothing. When was she going to get them? What kind of fabric were they going to be? Were they going to have a pattern or would they be solids? Would they be dark colors? If so, she hoped not, dark colors made her look terrible. Mashiro had broken down and finally gone to visit his mother.

"Mom, could you teach me how to sew?" Mashiro asked, startling his mother as she poured the tea.

"Why on earth do you want to learn how to sew? Do you have holes in your clothing, dear?" She asked quizzically as she set down the teapot.

"Well, no... But since we're in between manga right now, it would be something to do, besides waste time." Mashiro's mother gave him an intense stare, as if she knew that there was more to the story. Mashiro tried to avoid his mother's look by focusing on his tea, but he soon caved to his mothers unspoken question.

"Also, Miyoshi wants to wear some of the clothing designs I came up with for some characters I drew. It would help get her off my back for a while as well." He breathed out quickly, eager to just get it over with and give his mother what she wanted.

"Hmm. I see. Well, bring me my things. You're here so we might as well get started now, I suppose." She replied after a long, considering look and a sip of her tea. His mother had a gleam in her eye that promised that the next few hours were going to be going by very, very slowly. He gave an inaudible whimper at the thought.

Three days later Mashiro was back at the studio. The fingers of his right hand were covered in multiple bandages. His mother had decided that he had to learn how to hand sew before she would even let him think of handling the sewing machine. Only after he had lost count of how many times he had stabbed himself did his mother decide to give him a thimble. He personally thought that his mother was a closet sadist, but he feared his mother's wrath should he say it out loud.

After cleaning the studio, he sat down to do a few leisurely sketches. The Ashirogi Muto artist loved these rare stolen moments. While he enjoyed drawing the mangas, there was something relaxing about being able to sit down alone and sketching off a few pictures that had nothing to do with anything.

Sometime later Takagi and Miyoshi came through the door, chatting quietly as they put their things away. When they saw him they they called their hellos to Mashiro, who was glaring at at them. Taken aback by the uncharacteristic hostility, Takagi inquired what was wrong.

"I asked my mom to teach me how to sew last week."

"Really!" Cut in Miyoshi in excitement.

"Yes." The artist hissed back in anger, sounding rather like an angry kitten. However, he might as well have been screaming at them, given how good-natured and passive he was.

"Well, what's the problem then?" Takagi asked, his confusion evident on his face and in his tone.

Mashiro's only answer was to stretch out his hands and show them his bandaged fingers.

"Oh my...!" "What happened?" His friends asked, their voices overlapping.

"Before I learn to use the sewing machine, I have to learn how to hand sew. Not to mention my mom is brutal when it comes to teaching. She wouldn't let me stop until the stitches were perfect." Snarled Mashiro.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't think that it would be that bad!" Miyoshi said tearfully, her hand over her mouth as she stared at her friends' hands.

"Maybe you should just give up on those clothes, Miyoshi. You don't really need any more." Offered Miyoshi's husband gently.

"Oh, of.. of course." She responded with a down cast look.

"No, it's not a problem. I'm just being nasty and taking it out on you two. I'm sorry." Sighed Mashiro as he ran his hand through his hair, as he looked up at them apologetically.

"It's ok, Saiko. I can understand that you're frustrated. I'm not angry." Was Takagi's reply, as he nudged his wife until she said as well.

Since they really didn't have anything to work on, they left the studio not too long after. Instead of going straight home like his friends, Mashiro headed to the train to go downtown. His mother had given him a list of things to buy with the address of a fabric store that was somewhat close to him.

As he walked into the store, he looked around, already lost. There were fabrics everywhere. On huge shelves that you needed ladders to get to, piled on the floor, and filling every corner. In the middle of the room was a large table with even more fabric piled up around it, looking almost like a fort. In the very front were the registers. Overwhelmed, the young man just wandered up and down the isles as he wondered to himself. Was this only a fabric store? Did they sell other sewing paraphernalia? How did they organize things?

Mashiro pulled the list his mother made him out of his wallet. Most of the things on the list he could get easy. If they didn't have them here, he could go to any craft store and pick them up. But muslin... What was muslin? The list said that he needed half a yard, so it must be fabric he was guessing. But what if it was some special thing, like lace?

"Do you need any help finding anything today?" AS sweet voice asked, jolting the Ashirogi Muto artist out of his internal ramblings.

It was a girl around his ages in an apron with the store name on it. She had a cute baby face with large grey eyes, and brown hair in a ponytail. Mashiro had cataloged her looks before he even realized it.

"Yes, please!" Breathed Mashiro in relief.

"My name is Izumi, what can I do for you today?" She asked with a smile and a quick bow.

"Um... I need muslin, some thread, pins, and a few needles." Mashiro recited at her.

"Ok, well, let's start with the muslin." Izumi asked as she led him through the aisles. "Are you just learning to sew?"

"Ano… yeah. Do you have green muslin?" Mashiro asked hesitantly, unsure with all these new terms

"Muslin is unbleached cotton, only one color, plus it's cheaper, so really it the best to use as a practice cloth." She answered him as she stopped in front of a shelf. She pulled out a roll pale fabric and handed it to him.

"Well, it doesn't really matter, I guess. I'm just practicing my hand sewing. Does it matter what kind of thread I use?" Mashiro asked as he followed her like an obedient duckling.

"No, unless you prefer a certain color to practice with?" Izumi said with a kind smile at Mashiro's naïve questions.

"I really don't need this much..." He said to cover his embarrassment. He was rather confused as to why she was giving him so much.

Izumi let out a giggle as she led him away to the back of the store. "We're going to cut it down to however much you need." Mashiro just nodded, fighting down another blush. He followed her, tripping on the bolt and other fabrics as he went, quickly adding to his mountain of humiliation. They got the other things on the list, and then headed to the table in the middle of the room to cut the fabric, and then to the register.

As she rang him up, he thanked her profusely. Izumi just waved it off with a little laugh and a smile. "It's no problem! If you ever need any more help, I'm usually here on week days.

Mashiro smiled at her and left the store to head home to practice his stitches.


End file.
